


Uncanny Coincidences

by Creatortan



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Gen, Reincarnation, Short One Shot, Taz spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 23:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21465964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatortan/pseuds/Creatortan
Summary: “He didn’t look anything like the late Ned Chicane, but there was something around the eyes, something in the way he held himself, that echoed eerily close.”
Relationships: canon relationships mentioned
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Uncanny Coincidences

**Author's Note:**

> A short oneshot I wrote on a whim, cause this idea just buried itself in my brain and wouldn’t let go HAJSKFKGL idk if anyone else has done this but here’s my take! (I call mine the “Ned Again Au” lmao)

It was about twelve years since the Reconciliation Apocalypse that Wasn’t. Sylvain had rebuilt better and stronger than it ever was, with a bustling drive for knowledge and exploration—including to Earth. Armed with a new portal, the doorway between the worlds was used extremely liberally, now that it was moved to the basement of the Lodge.

Which, speaking of, business at Amnesty Lodge was better than ever, in a sense. It had become the premier resting stop for Sylvans coming to explore—though none of them had Earthen money to really pay, they worked small jobs, and sent back postcards from their travels.

Dani and Aubrey visited often, and were thinking about getting married. Duck and Minerva had been married for a couple of years—though neither of them are quite sure if they should count the accidental marriage or the intentional proposal as their anniversary. Agent Stern had been given a new post at the Green Bank Telescope, though he was thinking of retiring soon. Mama was sculpting enough that she opened an art gallery down the block from Dave’s Dehumidifier Depot, and often displayed both local Kepler art and art from passing Sylvans. The most popular exhibit was a group project of several pieces showing scenery and daily life from an alien planet.

The day-to-day wasn’t as exciting as it had been, and for that, the former Pine Guard were grateful.

So it wasn’t unbelievable that no one thought twice about the reports of lost items in Kepler. Little things—jewelry, silverware, watches. Things that could easily have been misplaced.

It wasn’t until the thief got sloppy that people started taking notice.

There had been a break-in at the Cryptomomica, a window jimmied open in the back. A chair pulled up to the door of the Chicanery to reach the higher locks. A bag too stuffed full of loot and hands too excited to notice the footsteps approaching from behind.

And Billy, who had just happened to pop in for a can of RC Cola.

A large, powerful man with a goat’s head creeping in the middle of the night would scare anyone, but the sight was downright terrifying to a scrappy twelve year old thief.

The next morning, Sheriff Owens had called up Mama. He’d never been one to believe in fate or destiny—but he was a lawman, and coincidences usually don’t come this pretty.

The boy was named Ned. Or, more accurately—N.E.D. He’d introduced himself with a flourished little speech.

“I have three names and I hate all of them! So Ijust go by my initials: N. E. D. Ned. Sounds a lot nicer than Norris Edgar Daley, doesn’t it?”

Though, the next time he was asked, the initials stood for “Nigel Eduardo D’alimonte.”

He’d already seen too much, and of the scant information he’d given about his past—he had no home to return to. They didn’t quite know what to do with him, so they ended up doing what they did with all the strays of Kepler: they let him stay at Amnesty Lodge.

He didn’t look anything like the late Ned Chicane, but there was something around the eyes, something in the way he held himself, that echoed eerily close. He took his toast the same way—burnt on the edges with peanut butter and honey; he tapped out the same staccato rhythm on tables when he wanted to remind people he was there. At one point, Barclay fell into the beats of old banter so seamlessly, he didn’t even notice until he’d made reference to something the kid wasn’t there for.

And it was a few weeks in, Mama had caught it—the kid had nightmares. Reoccurring nightmares of monsters, of drowning in pools, and being buried alive in snow, of falling from great heights, and of fire, oh, how this kid dreamt of fire. His hands trembled when he saw a candle, though his phobia was expertly hidden, unless you knew what to look for—the tightness around the jaw, the stealthy diversions.

As he stayed at the Lodge, there were nights where he’d confessed to Mama that the nightmares were worse, but that there were more nights where he’d just dream vividly of mundane things. Of locking something important in a display case, of performing in front of a camera, of throwing away cans of RC Cola, of writing letters.

He didn’t know why he woke up crying in that last one; it was a happy dream. 

The former Pine Guard spoke in hushed voices about him, sometimes. Some nights, Aubrey didn’t sleep, feverishly researching soul magic with Sylvain, who didn’t have many answers of her own.

In Sylvain, second chances are gifted by way of a spectral form. When Aubrey tried to revive Ned Chicane, it didn’t work—her powers had just been shot to hell.

What she couldn’t have known, though, was when she was calling for Sylvain’s magic to save her friend, it was Earth who responded to the call.

On Earth, second chances are gifted by way of a new life, a rebirth. It just took twelve years for Ned to get back to them. 


End file.
